Caught In the Moment
by Dollimesh
Summary: Wendy is just your average 15 year old, and on the verge of coming of age. Everything is going according to plan, until she runs into a runaway named Peter Pan. She gets swept up into his chaotic life and looses herself. Will she find her way out? Or not?
1. Drama and Candy

SUMMARY: Wendy is just your average 15 year old, and on the verge of coming of age, as her 16th birthday is right around the corner. Everything is going according to plan, until she runs into a runaway who calls himself "Peter Pan". She gets swept up into his chaotic lifestyle, and suddenly her birthday is closer than she wants it to be. Will Wendy forever remain with Peter, or will she come to her senses and go back home?

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Wendy?" My mother's familiar voice wakes me from my quiet slumber. "James will be here soon, don't you think you'd better wake up?" I'm about to wave my hand and ask for five more minutes, when my half opened eyes fall on the neon green numbers of the clock on my bedside table. My eyes fly open and I jolt, sitting upright staring at the numbers. Oh crap. My mother rushes out of the room as I jump out of bed, sheets and pillows thrown in all directions as I attempt to untangle myself from the coverings.

Free from the sheets, I rush toward the bathroom. Immediately, I turn on the shower and pull at my clothes. While I wait for the water to get warm enough, I brush my teeth. Once I'm finished, I slide into the shower, the warm water greets my bare skin. Without wasting any time, I grab the soap and scrub. In five minutes, I'm clean and out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my body. Another minute passes and I'm blow drying my hair, trying to get it as dry as I can before I dress. It's Saturday, and my boyfriend, James and I have a date. He's taking me to see a movie I've been wanting to see, and then we're going to get ice cream and hang out at the mall or park or something. Three minutes and I'm back in my room, throwing clothes around, looking for something to match the shirt I had picked out last night.

"Wendy! James is here!"

Crap! I pull the shirt on over my head and pull on a pair of shorts. I grab my favorite pair of shoes, black converse, and head out into the living room where my mother is sitting on the couch opposite James. His black curly hair is pulled back into a small pony tail, and the beginnings of a goatee is on his chin. He stands up when I enter the room. He's tall for his age. "Hey."

I smile at him and grab his hand, "Let's go." I want to leave as soon as possible, before my mother starts getting all mushy.

James, a complete gentleman nods a quick goodbye to my mother, "Thank you for letting me take out your daughter."

She just smiles and waves her hand. I tug on James' arm and lead him out of the door. I know it's only one more nice comment before my mother begs him to stay. She's absolutely in love with James. She hopes that one day I'm going to get married to him. I'm not saying it's not a possibility, but I'm only fifteen years old, it's a little bit too soon to be thinking about marriage. I'm still focused on passing Algebra II.

* * *

The movie theater is only a couple blocks away from my house, so James and I decide to walk. He has a permit, but no car, and I have neither. Besides, walking is much more romantic. At least, I think so anyway.

James holds my hand while we walk, and we talk about anything and everything.

"Did you know, Lilly has another pet." I begin to say, trying to bring the conversation away from school things.

"What kind of a pet?"

"Are you ready for this? She has a crocodile!"

James stops walking and stares at me, "You're joking!" I just shake my head. "Goodness! An crocodile! Really? I have to see that."

I nod, "She showed me some pictures. She said it just showed up in her backyard. I swear, animals are just attracted to her."

"Maybe we could go over to her house after the movie." James suggested, a gleam in his light blue eyes.

"Sure." I nod my head.

Lilly is my best friend, we've known each other since Elementary school. We were in all the same classes, until she got really sick in middle school. She's paralyzed from the waist down and has to go around in a wheelchair. She's not allowed to leave the house without her parents or some guardian present. So, whenever I want to hang out, I have to go to her house. It's not that bad, but her father's the Chief of police, so it's kind of intimidating.

* * *

James and I reached the movie theater sooner than we expected, and the movie doesn't start for another twenty minutes, so we decided to just hang out in front of the theater.

"Hey, Wendy?" James suddenly asks, "Do you know, the Muffin Man?"

I laugh. He is just too cute. "No, I do not know the Muffin Man. Who is he?"

James waggles his fingers in front of me, "He's the Muffin Man! Of course!"

I jump as James' fingers tickle my sides and my ribs. A loud shriek erupts from my lips, and James stops tickling me. He looks at me, and I glare at him. A minute passes, and we both burst into laughter. James is gripping his sides and laughing almost hysterically. "My face!" I cry, "It hurts to laugh!" I put my hands over my face as I laugh, trying to calm myself down. After about five minutes of giggling, we finally managed to stop. James looks at his watch, "Do you want to head in now?" I nod and we start walking for the theater doors.

Before James could open the door for me, the doors burst open from the inside of the theater, and a blond haired boy stalks out.

"Hey! Watch where you're walking!" James yells after the boy, who stops and turns back around.

I can't help but notice that he has his hands in his jacket, almost like he's hiding something. The blond haired boy walks up to James and stands inches away from him. My grip tightens on James' hand as I try to talk to him telepathically to let it go and just go into the theater.

The blond haired boy sneers, "Or what?" His face is young and mocking, "Are you going to hit me?"

James doesn't respond, he just continues to glare at the boy standing just inches in front of him. I tug at his hand, but he doesn't move. Damn. Whenever James gets mad, he gets mad, and I mean mad. He can't be talked out of it. He can't be reasoned out of it. The only way he can stop, is if he chooses to. I look up at James' face, his jaw is clenched and his eyebrows are furrowed, his light eyes look like their burning.

"That's what I thought." The blond boy sniffed, "You aren't going to do anything." He tilts his head until his eyes fall on me, he clicks his tongue and winks just before he turns to leave.

Crap.

James let go of my hand and reached for the boy's shoulder. James' fist connects with the blond boy's face, and I can't do anything but just stand there and watch. I react, but too late. The blond boy is on the ground, and an assortment of candy scatters from the inside of his jacket. I knew it, he was hiding something. I rush forward and grab James' arm, "Let it go! I'm fine! He didn't mean it!" But he pushes me away. I trip on my own feet and fall on my back. I can hear the sound of skin against skin, and a repeated pounding sound. I look up to see James on top of the blond haired boy, punching him repeatedly in the face. My back is sore, but I stand up again and rush forward to try and pull James off of him. This was supposed to be a good day. I wasn't supposed to referee a boxing match. This wasn't supposed to happen. We were supposed to go to the movies, have a good time, then go to Lilly's house. But now that wasn't going to happen. James would kill that boy if I didn't stop him. I wrap my arm around James' right arm and pull him off of the blond haired boy.

"Get off me!" James yells at me, trying to lunge for the boy again, but I pulled him back again.

"No! James, stop! This is ridiculous!" I shriek, hoping that maybe he'll snap out of it.

The blond haired boy pushed himself up from the ground, but he didn't stand. He just sat there glaring resiliently at James. He had a bloody nose and a cut lip, and would probably have a black eye, but he still looked mockingly at James. "Oh, so you need your girlfriend to help you?"

"That's it!" James pushed me off and lunged for the blond haired boy again. There was a grunt and a loud smack, and to my surprise, now the tables had turned. James was on his back while the blond haired boy beat on him.

All the commotion had raised some people from inside of the theater to rush out to see what was happening. A circle began to form around them, jeering and cheering them on. Then, security came and pushed through the crowd. They pulled James and the blond haired boy off of each other and told the patrons to go back inside and enjoy the movie. Oh. The movie. I must admit, it had completely slipped my mind until just now. The manager came out, took one look at the candy on the floor and one look at the boy and James. Then he sighed, "Peter, go home."

The blond haired boy wrenched himself free from the big man who was holding him and stuck out his tongue, "You can't tell me what to do!" But he ran off anyway.

The manager sighed again and put on his glasses to look at James. "Well, he hit you pretty hard. Are you all right, young man?"

James sniffed as he wiped the blood from his nose, he didn't answer. Still, the manager dismissed the security men, and it was only James, the manager, and I who were outside.

"So, who are you two anyway?" The manager asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

I spoke, because I knew James wasn't able to right now, at least in a normal tone anyway. "I'm Wendy Moira Angela Darling, and this is James Hook. Who was that boy?"

The manager sighed again, "He's a nuisance and disturbs my customers. He steals from my stores and picks a fight with everyone. His name is Peter Pan."


	2. Tired of Tears

**CHAPTER TWO: Tired of These Tears**

I wanted to ask the manager what else he knew about that boy, but James had grabbed my hand and started pulling me away. My head turns back and takes one last long look at the manager and the fallen candy. Why was that boy stealing candy? I stumble and grab James' arm to steady myself, he doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop, he just keeps up with his quick pace. We walk like this for three blocks before I can't stand it anymore. I put my feet down on the concrete and use every ounce of strength and weight in me to stop him, and this time he stops. He turns to face me, his nose red a thin trail of blood swept to the side, a sore on his right cheek, and confusion in his eyes. Confusion mingled with anger.

"My wrist hurts, your squeezing too hard." I can't look him in the face. I don't like seeing him like this. But he loosens his grip on my wrist and continues to walk in his brisk pace, towing me along behind him. Another block, and another, and soon we're almost back to my house. I have a feeling in my gut, and I don't like it. James isn't the type of person to let things go. He'll hunt down that Peter Pan, and hurt him. I know this. "You're going to find him, aren't you?" I know this, and yet I still have to ask, confirm my fears.

James doesn't speak, too focused on getting me home, but I can tell by his silence that I'm right.

"Don't do it. You'll only get hurt -- "

James turns to face me, face red with anger, "Are you saying that I'm too weak to take on some bum!"

Quickly I shake my head, realizing I just made it worse. "I didn't mean that --" His grip tightens around my wrist and I gasp in pain, but glowers at me and lets go. I hold my wrist to my body, it's red and chafed. He exhaled loudly and bites his lower lip, "You can walk the rest of the way home,"he mutters as he turns and walks back the way we had come.

Involuntarily, my body turns to watch him go. I watch helplessly as he walks farther and farther away from me, and it's only until I feel the moisture slipping down my face that I realize I'm crying. My vision blurrs until he disappears and reappears behind my tears, I run a hand over my eyes and wipe my eyes on my sleeve. After a couple more minutes, I pull myself away and continue walking home.

My feet feel like their wearing heavy shoes of lead, and my legs feel like they're made of rubber. There's an ache in my heart and an ache on my back, my face is swollen and my eyes are red, but I keep walking. With each step I take, the distance between us grows. I don't want to be with someone who can't care to walk me all the way home. I don't want to be with someone who'd rather go after some boy than to dry my tears. I don't want to be with James Hook any longer. And yet, I don't want to be without him either.

It takes longer than usual to get to my house, because I stopped a couple of times to wipe my eyes so I could see. My mother isn't home. My brothers are probably in they're room playing video games or something, so I slip into the house unnoticed.

Like a wave, I feel somewhat better. The comfort of my room better than the openness of the outdoors. I shut my door and fall willingly onto my bed. The comforter sinks with my weight and I sigh heavily wishing I could fall asleep like this. But of course, my brothers have other plans. Almost immediately, my bedroom door flies open and my youngest brother Micheal runs into my room, flailing his arms and screaming. I jerk at the sudden noise and look up with a glare at the ten year old boy, who is still running around my room screaming. "Micheal! Get out of my room!"

He jumps onto my bed and falls on top of me, "But John's coming! He's gonna eat my brains!"

A sigh escapes my lips and John soon appears, arms straight out in front of him, mouth slack, tongue lolling out the side, eyes cock-eyed, and groaning, "Braaaiinnnnssssss.." A zombie invasion, oh great.

Micheal squeals and throws a pillow at John, who catches it and takes a bite out of the material. "Gross, John! I have to sleep on that!" I take the pillow out of his mouth and place it back on my bed. John goes around my bed to where Micheal is, and groans loudly, "Braaainnnsssss!" Micheal screams and ducks under his older brother's arms and rushed toward me, throwing himself into my arms, "Save me, Wendy!" I grunt at his weight, "You're too big for this!" I stagger to gain my balance, but John is at my side and licks my cheek, "Disgusting!" My legs give and I fall roughly on the floor, Micheal perched on top of my stomach with a giant grin on his face.

If there was any way to get a person's mind off of something, a zombie invasion was perfect.

John laughs and throws his arms up in triumph, "Now you're all zombies!" Micheal giggles and throws his arms up as well. I smile, but it comes out weak and forced, because there's a body sitting on me. I roll over and Micheal jumps off. Standing, I manage a breathless laugh and smile. Micheal jumps up onto my bed again and squeals, "Wendy! Tell us a story!" John nods earnestly and sits himself next to Micheal, "Yeah, a story about zombies!" A sigh escapes my lips and I sat in between my two brothers. "All right, a story about zombies."

"Once upon a time, there were two little boys, who loved their mother very much. One day, an old man came knocking on their door, Knock, knock, knock. The youngest boy opened the door and let the old man in, but the old man wasn't really a man at all. . ."

* * *

I smile at my brothers fondly as they run out of my room to play more video games. They had recently bought a new game, and they kept playing it again and again, trying to beat their old high score. I don't exactly know what the game is about, but there's a zombie level they're always playing. I've never been all that into video games, but it's fun to watch sometimes. Especially since my brothers can't seem to sit still when they play. Micheal is always jumping up and down, screaming at the screen, and John is constantly jumping out of his seat whenever something sudden happens, and then sits back down when things cool down, only to jump up again. They still acted like little children, especially Micheal who thought he was still six when he was ten. John was only a year older, and tried to act mature whenever grown ups were around, but at home or with his friends, he was just as childlike as his brother.

I hear my phone ringing on my bed side table and pick it up, "Hello?"

"It's Lilly!" The voice greets.

"Oh, hey! I was going to come over today, but I got busy, sorry." I bit my lip, feeling bad that I was lying to my best friend. But I didn't want to tell her that I didn't go because I got in a fight with my boyfriend.

"Are you busy now? Can you come over? You need to come over now! Or no, go to the hospital!" Her words were flowing like a never ending river, no stop between the words, and no pause between the sentences so it sounded like a mesh of meaningless words.

"Whoa! Slow down! What did you say? Something about a bus and a hospital?" I shake my head, but still concerned a bit. Did something happen to her? Was she in the hospital?

"James. Is. Hurt." Those three words made everything slow down. "He was fighting with some kid outside my house, and they jumped the fence into my backyard. James landed on my crocodile, he lost his hand."

I shut the phone and ran out my room. My brothers looked up from the television screen for a second, "Wendy?" But I ignored them. I had to get to the hospital. I had to see him. I should have done something else. I should have stopped him. I should have went after him. I flew out the door, not caring to close it behind me, and ran as fast as my legs could move me. Wishing desperately I had a car, or had the mind to grab a bike or something, but that would have taken too much time. I had to see him now.

The blocks flew passed, the street signs were a blur, a dog somewhere barked at me as I ran, but I didn't stop. I didn't even slow down. Was this how James felt? A surge of adrenaline causing you to surge forward without thinking, acting completely on impulse and nothing else? Was this how he was feeling when he -- I shook my head, ridding those thoughts from my mind. No. I had to focus. I shook my head again, and suddenly the world was spinning and I fell hard to the ground. My hands flamed and my knees burned with pain. I lay on the cool ground, side of my face pressed to the cement, hands held a couple inches above it. Even thought I was lying on the ground, my legs still felt like they were running. I groaned and pushed myself up slowly, looking around, embarrassed that I tripped like that. My eyes caught a familiar sight, the hospital!

I crossed the street quickly and entered the hospital, greeted instantly by the smells of clean floors and sick people. I go up to the nurse station, "Excuse me?"

The red-haired young nurse looks up from the computer screen, "How can I help you?"

"Is there a patient here by the name of James Hook?" I ask slowly, extremely aware of how good the cold counter top feels against my burning hands.

She turns away to look back at the computer screen for a minute, then looks back at me, "He's in surgery. Are you family?"

I could tell the truth and not get to see him, or I could lie. Hmm...I wonder which I should do? "Yes, he's my cousin." That was good. Enough of a gene difference so we wouldn't have to look alive. Cousins, that was good. The nurse nodded slowly and looked back at the computer screen, "Just sit over there and I'll let you know when you can see him." I follow with my eyes to where she was pointing and saw some familiar faces. "Mrs. Hook? Mr. Hook?" I mutter under my breath as I walk over toward James' parents.

"Oh my God, Wendy!" Mrs. Hook throws her arms around me and sobs loudly into my hair. Unconsciously, I wrap my arms around her. "My poor boy!" She moans and squeezes me tighter. The tears fall. My mind goes blank and all I can do is cry and hold the older woman. Honestly, I'm getting tired of crying.


	3. Finding Fault

**CHAPTER THREE: Finding Fault**

After a couple of hours pass, a doctor comes out from the door on the right, and he walks over to Mr and Mrs Hook. I stand up from where I was sitting and walk over to hear what the doctor has to say.

"It's difficult, to say the least." The doctor starts, "But we don't have his hand, we can't reattach it. The only way would be to do this is to kill the crocodile and retrieve your son's hand from it's stomach."

Mrs. Hook places her hand over her mouth and sobs. Mr. Hook wraps a comforting arm around his wife and asks the doctor, "What about prosthetics?"

The doctor nods, "That's what I was going to suggest. We cauterized the nerve endings and stopped the bleeding as best as we could. The next step now is to fix a prosthetic hand for him."

I turn away and sit down on the nearest chair, not wanting to hear anything more. I close my eyes and go back into my mind, remembering the fun that we were having not too long ago. I scoff at myself, we weren't having fun. We were trying to have fun, but we really weren't. Lately, it's been harder and harder to have fun with James. And now, I can only guess that it'll be even harder. I sink into the comforting chair and let out a long exasperated sigh. Mrs. Hook walks over to me, her arms wrapped around herself, "The doctor says we can go see him now, if you'd like to join us." I nod and smile weakly before getting out of the chair and following them through the door and through the halls. The smell of alcohol swabs and sanitizing chemicals burn my nose and I shiver, I never liked hospitals.

We reach a room and enter it one at a time. James is lying in the white medical bed, right hand bandaged thoroughly, a circle of red at the end. Mrs. Hook takes tentative steps to the side of the bed and slowly reaches out her hand to gingerly touch her son's cheek. He shudders and opens his eyes, they look far away and glazed over. I take a step closer and stand at the end of the bed, hands gripping the railing until my knuckles turn white. If it was so hard to be with him when he wasn't hurt, why is it even harder now? I bite my lower lip and let my eyes trail over him. His black hair isn't tied back, the curls laced with sweat glisten at his neck and shoulders. His skin looks pale and gleams in the bright light of the room. I try to keep my eyes on his face, but they keep trailing down to where his hand used to be. To think, I was holding that hand not too long ago.

"Wendy." His voice is rough as it speaks my name, "Why are you here?"

I look up, brought out of my mind and back into the present. His eyes are still glazed, but his eyebrows are furrowed. In pain, confusion or anger? I can't tell with him like this. There's a lump in my throat, but I swallow around it and speak, "What do mean why am I here?" I just now realize that Mr. and Mrs. Hook are no longer in the room. They must have left us alone.

James turns his face away from me, "Leave."

"No." I grip my hands tighter to the railing, assuring myself that I'm not going to leave him like this. Despite all the hurt he put me through, I can't just turn around and leave him when he needs me.

"I don't want you here. Leave me alone." His words sting, and I find my control wavering. Should I leave or should I stay? Doubt enters my mind and I grip the rail tighter. "Leave. Me. Alone." He says each word slowly and strongly, daring me to stay and see what happens next. If I were stronger I would have taken that dare, but I'm not strong. I'm just a weak and scared little girl, so I leave. I can feel my eyes burn but I refuse to cry over him anymore. I walk through the halls, the way I was led earlier, passing Mr. and Mrs. Hook who were standing outside not too far away. They see me leave and rush back into their son's room. Were they in on this? I find myself thinking. Was it all a part of their plan? Did they ever like me? I think those things, but I'm really thinking Did _he_ ever really like me?

I shut those thoughts out of my mind and focus on getting back home. And I can't help but find myself wondering how the day turned out like this? One moment we were kind of having a good time, things were normal at least, and then all of a sudden things changed. The world was cruel. How could it do this? Was it punishing me for pretending? I shake my head and leave the cold hospital. Well, world, if you wish it, I'll never pretend anymore. I'll do whatever I feel like so long as it's real. I won't do things I don't want to do. I'll tell people straight up if I think they're annoying me, or if I think their "oh-so-cute" hairstyle is actually disgusting. I'll be real, and I'll stop pretending. Thank you world, for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with pretend.

The sun is barely reaching it's peak in the middle of the sky when I start getting near my house. Mother will be home in a couple of hours, with loads of questions no doubt. Which will give me the perfect opportunity to test out my new way of dealing with things. Then it hit me. I stopped walking. I don't want to go home just yet. So, in honor of my new found outlook, instead of continuing on my way home like a good little girl, I crossed the street and head for the park a couple blocks away.

Not the most out there thing in the world, but it was good enough for now. During no school days and weekends the park was crawling with all kinds of people, and they all had their little spots. The joggers and athletic people were near the front of the park, circling the fountain and the sidewalks. The business people were at the benches and chess tables at the sides of the park. The kids were in the middle where the playground was. That was also where the mothers and nannies and older siblings were at. In the back of the park, at the edge of the small wood, that was where the druggies hung out. They smoked weed and other things there, hidden in between the trees. That was where couples went to loose their virginity. So where did that leave me? I wasn't sure where I should head to. I wasn't about to hang out with the workers at the chess tables, and I don't think I'm prepared enough to chill next to the druggies. The athletic people never sat down, so all there was left was to go to the playground. Maybe I could find a tree to sit under, the sun was making me warm.

Surprisingly, there were only a few kids on the playground. Which was very odd for this time of day. There was no school, the kids should be running around all over the place. Oh well, more peace and quiet for me. I found an unoccupied bench in the shadow of a large oak tree and sat down. I smiled and watched a little girl play on the slide. Then I sighed, "Oh I'm so bored." My smile faded and I blew out air and crossed my arms, "Who cares about him anyway. Hook can go and do whatever he wants for all I care."

"Who are you talking to?"

I jump in my seat and turn around, but there's no one there. What the heck? I look all around me, but there is no one in sight. "Hello?" I call out nervously, ready to punch someone in the nose. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Yeah, me!"

I look around again, still there's no one. "This isn't funny! I know you're behind the tree, so why don't you just come on out where I can see you!"

"Funny? Who's laughing? Not me."

"I'm serious! This isn't a game! Stop it!"

"Then don't be serious and it could be."

I groaned and got up from the bench, stormed around to the other side of the tree and gasped. No one was there. "Where are you for crying out loud?"

"Right here! Look up!"

I exhale loudly and turn my face up into the branches, there sitting on a branch is a boy. A boy with blond hair and brilliant green eyes, almost the same color as the leaves in the tree. But enough of his eyes! "What are you doing up there? You could get hurt!" I paused, "And what are you doing freaking me out like that! I don't even know you!"

He just laughs and presses his back against the trunk, "Oh, but I know you! You were at the movies! I saw you! You were with your boyfriend. He punched me right here." Then he pointed to his stomach, "And then again right here," and he pointed to his face. There was a shiner on his cheek.

I gasped. I thought he looked familiar! "You!"I glared up at the boy, "You're the reason! It's all your fault!"

"My fault? What did I do?"

"It's because of you that James' is in the hospital!"

"Who's James?" The boy picked a leaf from the branch and started to play with it.

"My boyfriend!" I nearly screamed, "Because you got him mad, now he's in the hospital! Do you know he lost his hand?"

And to my surprise the boy laughed. "Oh, yeah. That was funny. You should have seen his face, it was like this:" then he contorted his face into a look of mock pain. "Just like that. Priceless."

I stared at the boy in shock. "I can't believe you. You don't even care."

"Why should I? It's his fault for sticking it in the crocodile's mouth in the first place." The boy swung his legs over the side of the branch and jumped down. "Not my problem."

"You're a jerk!" I pushed him as hard as I could, but still he barely moved an inch. "Ugh!" I screamed and did an about face and stormed off. Stupid boy. It's all his fault.


End file.
